Assassin's Creed: Mysteries of the Past
by Eric's Alan
Summary: This is an original story about Ezio Auditore, and a mission that he took on which was never made in the games. This takes place mainly ten years after the death of Ezio's father and brothers. NOTE This is not written by Eric's Alan. I am a very good friend of hers who she has allowed to write on her profile.
1. Prologue

Agostino Arcimboldo moved with the crowd toward the city square. It was with a heavy heart he walked, for he knew what was to come at this gathering.

People began filtering slowly into the square. They spread out around the stage in the center. The stage was a set of gallows, and three people stood there with their necks within the nooses: a middle-aged man with stringy orange hair, a young man who was somewhere between teenage years and adulthood, and...and a young boy, no older than eight, who was looking around with wide, terrified eyes. On the stage with them was a large, powerfully built executioner, a heavyset and well-dressed man with stubble about his chin, and a mysterious figure adorned with a magenta cloak and hood.

The heavyset man was the Gonfaloniere of Justice, the man in charge of the city's internal security. The Gonfaloniere position changed hands every two months, at a city-wide drawing of names. This Gonfaloniere's name was Uberto Alberti. He had come into the position a mere two weeks before, but had already radically changed the operation of the city guards. The new method of operation had decreased crime in The Republic of Florence dramatically. Alberti was well known and well respected within the city.

The middle-aged man in the gallows was Giovanni Auditore, a well-known noble. He was a city banker, a very good one. Agostino knew Giovanni. They were never close friends, but Giovanni had always been happy to stop and talk for a while when he had time to spare. Agostino knew him to be an honest and loyal man. Never a criminal.

The crowd was beginning to get worked up as they listened to the Gonfaloniere speak. "Giovanni Auditore!" was the first thing Agostino heard upon entering the square. "You and your accomplices stand accused of the crime of treason. Have you any evidence to counter this charge?"

"Yes, the documents that were delivered to you last night!" Giovanni yelled, struggling furiously against his restraints.

"I'm afraid I know nothing of these documents." Alberti said, though Agostino noticed he said it very dramatically, like he was putting on a show for someone. It seemed as though he were trying to please someone with what he said.

Then, from the back of the crowd, a young voice screamed, "HE'S LYING!" The crowd paid him no attention, but Agostino knew that voice. Where had he heard it before?

"In the absence of any compelling evidence to the contrary," the Gonfaloniere continued, "I am bound to pronounce you guilty. You and your collaborators are hereby sentenced to _death." _From the back of the crowd, where the voice had come from, a figure wearing a white hooded robe and a cape began shoving its way toward the front of the crowd, trying to get to the gallows. The executioner moved forward and took hold of the handle that would release the floor of the gallows.

"You are the traitor, Uberto, and one of them!" Giovanni roared, fighting furiously to get free, to get to Alberti. "You may take our lives this day, but we will have yours in return, I swear! We will-"

Those were the last words Giovanni ever spoke. The executioner pulled back on the handle, and all three prisoners fell through the floor of the gallows.

"FATHER!" The shriek of agony and fury came again from the man in the white hood, and he fought harder than ever to get to the stage. The man in the magenta robes moved forward and spoke quietly in the Gonfaloniere's ear. Alberti pointed at the man in the white hood and yelled, "There! Grab the boy! He's one of them!"

Two city guards moved in and caught the man by the arms. His hood fell back, and Agostino felt a blast of horrified recognition. It was Ezio Auditore, Giovanni's second of three sons.

"I'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" Ezio bellowed at Alberti, fighting like a wild beast to get free. He managed to throw off one guard, then turned and punched the other. He drew a shining sword from his waist, and made ready to fight. His confidence was short-lived. One of the city's elite guards, a huge man in thick armor, approached Ezio. With a single sweep of his mighty battle axe, the guard knocked the sword from Ezio's hand. More guards closed in from all sides, and Ezio, seeming to realize he would die if he stayed, turned and ran. He jumped up several boxes, swung off an iron pole sticking out from the side of a home, bounded onto the roof, and was gone.

Agostino stood stock-still, stunned by all that transpired. It had all happened so fast, he had barely had time to run to cover before it was over. He could not take it in. The Auditores? Criminals? It was too much for his mind to handle. Who was the mysterious man in the magenta robe? Why did he seem to control the most powerful man in all Florence? And Ezio...he was barely more than a boy. Where had he gotten a sword, or those strange clothes? Agostino wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew something bigger was going on.

A shadow crossed Agostino's face. It could have been a bird, but he sensed it was more. He looked up, and saw a mysterious figure on a nearby rooftop. Had it been there the whole time, watching? The figure stood, turned, and moved off, quickly but stealthily. Its movements suggested many years of practice moving quietly. Agostino could only see the figure as a silhouette, but he was able to make out a hood and a long flowing cape, a pattern that seemed to be repeating quite a lot.

Agostino caught his breath. There were stories, almost legends, about a man known as _La Volpe_, The Fox. No one had ever seen The Fox, but he was said to have the stealth of forty thieves. It was rumored he had brilliantly purple eyes, and said that he only appeared where there was great wealth to be found, or great events were taking place. Could this figure be The Fox? What could that mean?

Agostino stood, trembling, and shook his head. The day's events had been terrible, but they were over. They did not have anything to do with him. He began to head home to his wife, forgetting about work. He was going to settle down and try to forget all that had happened. Such things were dangerous, and he wanted no part of them. He had no idea the impact what he had witnessed would have on the city's history in the coming years. He couldn't possibly know that what he had just seen would create one of the greatest master assassins of all time, who would change the world with the people he killed. He did not know, and he did not care. He merely wanted to be home, and forget the whole matter.


	2. Chapter 1: The Thief

Ezio collapsed with a sigh into a chair. He was in his room in the attic of Monteriggioni, his uncle's villa. He had just returned from assassinating another co-conspirator in his family's betrayal.

Ezio thought back to why he had spent so long hunting down and killing everyone involved in his family's murders. He thought about the day when they had been killed, and how he had come so very close to joining them. He had spent the following ten years hunting, finding, and assassinating everyone involved. Ten long, difficult, and dangerous years. The faces of his victims, his enemies, floated through his mind. Vieri, Francesco, and Jacopo di' Pazzi, Antonio Maffei, Francesco Salviati, Stefano Da Bagnone, Bernardo Baroncelli, and many more. All members of the same family, or their allies. He remembered all the moments when his hidden blades had met each of their throats, chests, or even eyes, and how all those moments came about.

Ezio shook his head to clear it. He had already killed several of the Pazzi, but the job was only half finished. Ten long years it had been, and he was only just getting started. He needed to have his mind in the present, not the past. He needed some more space to think.

He walked out of the villa and down to the horse stables. He untied his horse and rode to Florence. Ezio entered the city, then took to the rooftops. Intentionally avoiding his old manor, he moved to his old favorite spot, a length of wood jutting out from the top of a tall tower. He'd always loved the view of the city from here. He looked out onto the night, remembering how he had stood on this very roof ten years ago with his older brother, Federico, laughing with him, reveling in the fantastic, carefree life they'd had, and hoping it would never change. How naïve they'd been, to think things could stay the same forever. And yet...who could ever have predicted how things would change?

Ezio shook his head in annoyance. Coming here had not helped. It had only put his head farther in the past. He rose into a crouch upon the board, ready to depart, but something caught his eye. Looking down, he saw a dark figure flitting across the rooftops at a speed that impressed even him. The figure moved quickly, but quietly. It was bent low, watching for the rooftop archers. Ezio knew that kind of run all too well. He himself had had to use it many times. It was the run of a criminal. Probably a thief. He sighed, resigned to catching whoever it was. He may have been an assassin, but he fought and killed for the general good and for revenge, not for personal gain. When a crime was committed near him, he stopped it.

Leaning forward, Ezio looked around the base of the tower. It appeared at least a hundred feet to the ground. He stood at full height on his perch, then pitched forward off the building. As he plummeted downward, wind whistling through his ears, he felt the adrenaline pounding through his veins. He loved doing this, every single time. It never got old.

Halfway to the ground, he executed a graceful turn, so his back was facing down. His fall was broken at the end by a stack of hay several feet tall. He rummaged around for a moment to get his bearings, then jumped out. He looked up, and saw the thief running across the roofs at great speed. Ezio adjusted his throwing knife belt, to be used as a last resort, looked around, and ran to a supply lift nearby. Extending his hidden blade, he grabbed the rope that lifted the supplies, sliced through the rope right above them, and allowed the counterweight to carry him to the top of the building. Ezio landed on the roof feet first and took off after the thief, who was a full rooftop away. Luckily the thief hadn't noticed him, which gave Ezio the element of surprise.

He chased the thief for what seemed like ages, slowly gaining on them. When they were only twenty feet apart, Ezio prepared to tackle whoever this was. But then his boot slipped on a loose shingle, and he stumbled. The thief froze and looked back, halfway through climbing a higher wall. Ezio caught himself, and they stared at each other for a split second that seemed ten.

The thief moved first. Grunting with the effort, they doubled their climbing speed. Reaching the roof, they sprinted away, no longer bothering to stay hidden from guards. It seemed the reputation of the great assassin had preceded Ezio, as it so often did. With a sigh, wishing he'd been able to catch them undetected, he too doubled his efforts in the chase. They ran and climbed, seemingly without end, neither gaining ground upon the other. Never had Ezio encountered someone who could equal his skill at climbing, and he found it quite intriguing, and a wonderful challenge.

Eventually, there came a point where the thief jumped across a gap and caught the wall of a building much taller than the last. Reaching the edge of the roof, Ezio looked down and realized there was a canal between the two buildings. He drew a throwing knife and launched it with deadly accuracy. It stuck in the wall several inches above the thief's hand. Ezio had hoped to startle them into falling in the canal, but incredibly, it didn't even phase them. On the contrary, the thief used it as their next handhold in their climb. They pulled the knife from the wall, tucked it into their belt, and kept going. Ezio, stunned, watched for a moment, then followed, marveling at how skilled this thief was.

Pulling himself onto the edge of the building where the thief had fled, Ezio paused and looked around. The thief was nowhere to be found. Ezio jogged forward, hoping to find the trail again, when the thief emerged from around a chimney, slashing with Ezio's throwing knife. Ezio dodged back, missing the blade by inches, and fell to his back. His hood fell, and the moon shone briefly across him, illuminating his features.

"You!" the thief gasped, looking into Ezio's face. Ezio struggled back to his feet, trying to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him. Instead of slashing again with the blade, the thief stepped back, lifted his foot, and gave Ezio a surprisingly powerful kick to the chest. Ezio fell backward, teetered on the edge of the roof, then fell into the canal. By the time he had resurfaced and climbed back to the roof, the thief was long gone.


	3. Chapter 2: Hunting

Ezio had been beaten. It may only have been a tussle with an insignificant criminal, but even that had never happened to him before. Especially since he had become an assassin, no one had been able to best him at any form of physical prowess.

"_Merda" _Ezio cursed. If that thief had had the skill to escape from him, he couldn't imagine what he could do to the shops, banks, and homes of Florence. He growled with frustration. Who was this thief who was possessed of such skill? He had clearly recognized Ezio when his hood had fallen, but how? Ezio had never met someone like this. How could the thief know his face? Whatever the case, Ezio had lost, and that needed to change next time.

All this and more flew through Ezio's mind as he rode his horse slowly back to Monteriggioni. He rounded the bend that revealed the villa, and remembered coming here with his mother and sister, just after his father's and brothers' executions. He remembered how Vieri di' Pazzi had surrounded the three of them with his men, and tried to kill them. It was only due to his uncle's intervention with his own men that they had lived.

Ezio shook himself mentally. He didn't know what had gotten into him lately. He was reliving the past far more often than he should have been, and wished that he could stop. It was only holding him back. Looking ahead to the entrance of the villa, he saw his uncle Mario standing there, waiting for him.

Mario Auditore had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to cede. He was large and broad-shouldered, with a heavy face. A scar stretched at an angle for several inches above and below his left eye, and the same eye was a milky white. The other eye was a dark brown, almost black. He had oily, shoulder-length black hair. His lips wore a thin black mustache, and a beaming smile as he saw Ezio approach from down the road. Ezio had not seen anyone on his return to the villa the previous night, on account of the late hour, so Mario knew nothing of his nighttime excursion.

"Ezio!" Mario thundered when Ezio had drawn closer. Ezio, smiling, dismounted his horse, and Mario clapped him on the shoulder. "How did it go?!" He demanded. "Is that dog Baroncelli still snapping at our heels?"

"No, uncle, but we may have a new problem," Ezio replied, growing serious. He explained to his uncle about the chase of the previous night. Mario's expression grew darker with every word he spoke. When Ezio had finished, Mario was looking quite worried.

"A man who could outrun even you?" Mario asked, for he knew well Ezio's climbing skill. "Well, I'll keep my ears open and check all my contacts.

"That's not good enough!" snapped Ezio. He had not meant to be angry, but once he said it, his anger continued to grow. "I need him now! Think what else he could do out there!"

"Ezio, calm yourself," Mario said, looking surprised. "Anyone can make a mistake. This man got away from you once, but we will find him. I promise you."

Ezio snorted, turned, and ran up to the manor in the middle of the villa. He climbed to the highest point of the multi-layered roof, and sat to think. This thief needed to be brought down fast, whoever he was. He hadn't just committed a crime, he'd insulted Ezio. He'd made things personal. Ezio had good contacts with _La Volpe, _the great thief, and Paola, the mistress of the brothel. Both groups heard things most people did not. Ezio was sure that with their help, he could find and catch the thief very soon indeed. Smiling at this thought, he lowered his hood, leaned back on the roof, and enjoyed the warmth of the rising sun.

Ezio slammed his fists down on the table in his room in frustration. Five months he'd been hunting this thief, using every method he knew, utilizing every contact he had, and he was no closer to finding him than when he'd started. Often he took to the cities himself, eavesdropping on conversations, picking pockets, and generally following ever-more remote leads. His work had earned him nothing. This was infuriating. Either the thief was laying low, or he was incredibly good at erasing his trail. Whatever the case may have been, Ezio remained determined to find him, now more than ever. The longer the thief avoided him, the more insult he was adding to what he had done that night.

There was a slight knock on the door. "Enter!" Ezio called. Claudia, his younger sister, opened the door and slid into the room. She was a slim, beautiful young woman. Brought up a noble, she had had difficulty adjusting to a working life at Monteriggioni. Over time, though, she had become a valuable asset to rebuilding the villa, as she kept charge of the record books.

"Still no leads on this thief of yours?" she asked gently, walking over and putting a hand on Ezio's shoulder. Ezio shrugged her hand off and moved away.

"_Nessuno," _Ezio said, inspecting one of his throwing knives. He'd had the blacksmith he bought the last set from engrave the Auditore crest into the hilt of each one. It was a new idea, meant so that the Pazzi would know who had killed their family member or ally when he struck. He had only used one of these knives so far, when he had thrown one at the fleeing thief.

There was a slight pause, then he turned to Claudia and growled, "It's like he's taunting me, Claudia. It's as though he's intentionally staying just one step ahead of me, almost allowing me to catch him. But I've no idea how!"

"Ezio, I can not help you with this. But you are the most talented man I've ever met," Claudia said consolingly. "You will find him. It may take some time, but he can not evade you forever."

Ezio looked at her for a moment, realizing how lucky he was to still have her. He walked over and pulled her into an embrace. "Thank you, Claudia. I do not know what I would do without you here." He pulled away and said, "I'm going to see_La Volpe. _See if any of his thieves has picked up on anything new." He said it without much conviction, for he doubted there would be any new information, but it would give him something to occupy his time. He gave Claudia a quick kiss on the forehead, slipped on his hidden blades, sheathed his sword, and headed downstairs.

As he was crossing the entryway, there was a knock on the great double doors. Ezio froze. It was most unusual for the manor to have visitors. He extended the hidden blade on his left arm and moved the rest of the way to the doors. Keeping his arm hidden behind it, he pulled open the left door.

A man in ragged clothes and worn shoes pushed through the doors and collapsed onto the floor. Ezio, seeing how weak the man was, retracted his hidden blade, but did not let his guard down. "Who are you?" he asked. "Why are you here?" The man pulled something from his belt and gestured Ezio closer. Ezio obeyed, but cautiously. "I believe...this belongs...to you." The man pressed the object into his hand, then passed out upon the floor.

Ezio looked at the man for a moment, then turned his attention to what the man had handed him. It was a throwing knife. It was utterly unremarkable. He turned it over, and nearly dropped it. At the bottom of the hilt, engraved deeply into the metal, lay the proud crest of the Auditore family.


End file.
